


To Hell with Your Tea Leaves

by Mireille



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-15
Updated: 2003-04-15
Packaged: 2018-08-16 11:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8099644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mireille/pseuds/Mireille
Summary: "Ah, Minerva," the headmaster said as he motioned someone forward, "I believe you already know our new Divination teacher."





	1. Original ending

**Author's Note:**

> (1) Written before the publication of OOTP, so don't expect canon compliance.  
> (2) There are two versions of this fic out there, because I was badgered into changing the ending. I've included both versions here, as separate chapters.

"Ah, Minerva," the headmaster said as he motioned someone forward, "I believe you already know our new Divination teacher."

She recognized her instantly, of course, giving the woman a cool nod as she stepped forward. "Sibyll."

With much jangling of bracelets and bangles, Sibyll Trelawney adjusted her glasses to peer at her. "Minerva," she replied, her voice thin and wispy--she'd obviously cultivated that as part of her more-mystical-than-thou routine, because it was nothing like the way she'd spoken as a schoolgirl. 

Dumbledore was about to speak, which Minerva hoped would dispel some of the tension in the room, but just then, a Hufflepuff prefect raced up to them, her eyes wide. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, Professor Kettleburn says will you please come quickly as one of the Abraxans he brought in for the sixth years has got into Hagrid's pumpkins." 

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "Hagrid will be most distraught if they get trampled. If you'll excuse me, professors?" He allowed the girl to lead him away.

"You know, the tea leaves told me that we would meet again," Sibyll said. 

Minerva sniffed. "Did they, now."

"They did indeed. The last time we spoke--"

"The last time we spoke," she said sharply, "I believe I told you precisely what you could do with your tea leaves."

***

"Oh, come on, now, Sibyll," Minerva said, looking up from her Charms essay. "Divination? I thought you were only taking it to make up for your marks in History of Magic."

"I was," Sibyll replied, putting her glasses back on to puzzle out a particularly difficult bit of her spidery handwriting, "but Professor Delphine thinks I'm a true seer, and it would be a shame for me to waste my talents."

"It's a shame for you to waste your _brain,"_ Minerva snapped. "You're second in Transfiguration in our year. Professor Dumbledore thinks that Emeric Switch can be persuaded to take us both on as advanced students next year. You'd be a fool to throw that away."

"But lots of people are good at Transfiguration, and hardly anyone has psychic gifts as strong as mine, Professor Delphine says." Then she smiled, reaching for Minerva's hand. "And don't worry that we won't be able to see each other. I've consulted the tea leaves, and--"

"To hell with your tea leaves," Minerva said, pulling her hand away. "To hell with your tea leaves," she repeated, "to hell with Divination, and to hell with you, Sibyll Trelawney."

And with that, she stood up and stalked out of the library. 

***

But that had been years ago. She and Sibyll hadn't spoken for the remainder of the school term, and after that, their paths hadn't crossed until today. 

Perhaps she should consider burying the hatchet. Albus certainly seemed to think so. And really, it was Sibyll's life; if she wanted to fritter it away on mystical mumbo-jumbo, that was her prerogative. 

Minerva climbed the last flight of stairs to Sibyll's quarters in the North Tower, knocking lightly at the door. 

It opened almost immediately to reveal a beaming Sibyll. "The tea leaves told me you were--"

She forgot her original plan to apologize and found herself echoing her seventeen-year-old self. . "To hell with your tea leaves!"

There was silence for a moment, and then Sibyll smiled. "To hell with my tea leaves, to hell with Divination, and to hell with me?" But there was an edge of hurt under the gently mocking tone of her voice, and Minerva felt a bit guilty. 

"Well," Minerva said, finally coming all the way into the room, "perhaps only two of the three."


	2. Alternate Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same fic, different ending.

"Ah, Minerva," the headmaster said as he motioned someone forward, "I believe you already know our new Divination teacher."

She recognized her instantly, of course, giving the woman a cool nod as she stepped forward. "Sibyll."

With much jangling of bracelets and bangles, Sibyll Trelawney adjusted her glasses to peer at her. "Minerva," she replied, her voice thin and wispy--she'd obviously cultivated that as part of her more-mystical-than-thou routine, because it was nothing like the way she'd spoken as a schoolgirl.

Dumbledore was about to speak, which Minerva hoped would dispel some of the tension in the room, but just then, a Hufflepuff prefect raced up to them, her eyes wide. "Professor Dumbledore, sir, Professor Kettleburn says will you please come quickly as one of the Abraxans he brought in for the sixth years has got into Hagrid's pumpkins."

"Oh dear," Dumbledore said. "Hagrid will be most distraught if they get trampled. If you'll excuse me, professors?" He allowed the girl to lead him away.

"You know, the tea leaves told me that we would meet again," Sibyll said.

Minerva sniffed. "Did they, now."

"They did indeed. The last time we spoke--"

"The last time we spoke," she said sharply, "I believe I told you precisely what you could do with your tea leaves."

***

"Oh, come on, now, Sibyll," Minerva said, looking up from her Charms essay. "Divination? I thought you were only taking it to make up for your marks in History of Magic."

"I was," Sibyll replied, putting her glasses back on to puzzle out a particularly difficult bit of her spidery handwriting, "but Professor Delphine thinks I'm a true seer, and it would be a shame for me to waste my talents."

"It's a shame for you to waste your brain," Minerva snapped. "You're second in Transfiguration in our year. Professor Dumbledore thinks that Emeric Switch can be persuaded to take us both on as advanced students next year. You'd be a fool to throw that away."

"But lots of people are good at Transfiguration, and hardly anyone has psychic gifts as strong as mine, Professor Delphine says." Then she smiled, reaching for Minerva's hand. "And don't worry that we won't be able to see each other. I've consulted the tea leaves, and--"

"To hell with your tea leaves," Minerva said, pulling her hand away. "To hell with your tea leaves," she repeated, "to hell with Divination, and to hell with you, Sibyll Trelawney."

And with that, she stood up and stalked out of the library.

***

But that had been years ago. She and Sibyll hadn't spoken for the remainder of the school term, and after that, their paths hadn't crossed until today.

Perhaps she should consider burying the hatchet. Albus certainly seemed to think so. And really, it was Sibyll's life; if she wanted to fritter it away on mystical mumbo-jumbo, that was her prerogative.

Minerva climbed the last flight of stairs to Sibyll's quarters in the North Tower, knocking lightly at the door.

It opened almost immediately to reveal a beaming Sibyll. "The tea leaves told me you were--"

She forgot her original plan to apologize and found herself echoing her seventeen-year-old self. "To hell with your tea leaves!"

There was silence for a moment, and then Sibyll smiled. "To hell with my tea leaves, to hell with Divination, and to hell with me?" But there was an edge of hurt under the gently mocking tone of her voice, and Minerva felt a bit guilty.

"I stand by my opinion of tea leaves and Divination," she began.

Sibyll's smile faded. "Since my opinion of them hasn't changed, either, I expect that means you stand by your opinion of me, as well."

She wanted to say "no," but honesty won out in the end. "I expect it does," she said, and turned back towards the stairs.


End file.
